


Close Calls

by Meg_Thilbo



Series: 14 Days of Writing [6]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Also fluff, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Humour, M/M, Pining, and Thorin likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meg_Thilbo/pseuds/Meg_Thilbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nori teaches Bilbo how to throw knives, something which the company are delighted to find he has a talent for. However, Thorin may have a few words on the matter himself.</p><p> </p><p>ALL WORKS IN THIS SERIES CAN BE READ INDEPENDENTLY</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Calls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EarendilElwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarendilElwing/gifts).



> Day 6 of my Bagginshield writing spree!
> 
> Prompt suggested by EarendilElwing- thank you for the excellent suggestion. I hope you like where I went with it ^-^ 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Now you want to hold the blade between yeh fingertips,” Nori explained, positioning Bilbo’s fingers carefully along the blade. “Not too tight, you’ll no’ get a nice spin on it. But no’ too loose or it’ll cut ya’ palm when it slips.”

Bilbo nodded, adjusting his grip and lifting the blade to eyelevel.

“That’s it!” Nori praised, “Now just look down the blade to get your aim and draw back your arm to throw it. Try and aim for the knot in the wood there…”

“Okay,” Bilbo said, focusing his attention and concentration on the spot ahead of him. When he felt he’d got it just right, he drew back his arm and let the blade fly.

To his dismay, it ended up stuck in the roots of the tree, falling short of its goal, but it had hit blade tip first at least.

“Not bad,” Nori commented, “try bringing your arm back more straight, so you don’ lose your angle.”

Bilbo listened as he went to fetch the knife Nori had loaned him, walking back to retake his stance and position his hand on the blade again. Concentrating, he took a deep breath to release the tension from his shoulders and stomach, as Nori had shown him moments before.

Taking aim, he focussed on the spot ahead of him and threw the blade with a bit more force. His jaw dropped open slightly when the tip hit the knot dead centre with a dull thud. The blade quivered for a moment before becoming still.

Nori clapped him on the shoulder, “Seems we’ve go’ ourselves a natural!” he said grinning, now going to fetch the blade himself as Bilbo stood scratching his head in bemusement.

Now that he looked around him, he realised he’d gained the attention of many of the company who were watching him in the dying light of the setting sun. The only members not watching were Balin and Thorin who were deep in discussion over the map they had laid out over a stump just a few paces away.

Even Dwalin looked half impressed at Bilbo’s newfound skill, but he then remarked, “Again. Make sure it’s not beginners luck.”

Now that he had the gaze and expectation of the company, Bilbo felt the pressure mount as it had done when he’d tried to steal from the trolls to prove his worth as a burglar. And whilst he could say he was no burglar, or a warrior for that matter, his skill at throwing things was not half bad. He was a champion at conkers in the Shire after all.

As Nori returned to him, he handed the blade back. “Whatever you did,” he said, shaking his head with amused wonder, “just do it again.”

“But I don’t know what I did,” Bilbo replied with a hurried whisper. Low enough that his spectators couldn’t hear him. Nori just shrugged and stepped away, giving Bilbo the room he needed as he put his sights back on the spot he’d hit just moments before.

Trying to remember how every part of his body had been positioned, Bilbo blocked out the dwarves around him. A quiet hush settled around him as they all waited in anticipation.

Once sure of his mark, Bilbo let the blade fly again. To his amazement, it hit the same spot again, the steel tip perfectly embedded in the tree.

Casting a glance at the company, he saw many eyebrows raised and bemused grins. Not beginners luck then.

Kili jumped to his feet, “Mister Boggins, come and hit this!” he said, pointing to one of the last apples that hung from the wild apple tree. The rest were round the base of the tree, long fallen as autumn was coming to a close.

Bilbo stared uncertainly up at it, but he would not be dissuaded. “Okay,” he said, as confidently as he was able as he went to fetch his blade, tugging it out of the bark.

Stepping a few metres away from the apple, Bilbo tried to figure out what angle would be best and decided to hit it at as low an angle as he could afford. The blade, despite being a throwing knife, was a bit heavy, and would unlikely make a steep angle.

No-one stepped forward to advice or help, they were much too entranced in seeing whether Bilbo would achieve his goal.

He waited until the air was still before releasing the blade. It sailed through the air before piercing the apple right through its core, the pair of them falling to the ground with a dull thud. A few claps emanated through the air as the company applauded his skill.

Blushing slightly under the attention, Bilbo went to retrieve the apple and blade, pulling the apple from it and tossing it to Kili who caught it with a grin.

“What’s next?” Bilbo asked turning to the company, his confidence markedly increasing with every success he made.

Over the next half hour, Bilbo was made to hit various branches, knots in trees and even Dwalin’s pair of boots, which he was too impressed by to be angry about when Bofur had suggested it. Bofur had drawn the line at his hat though, no-one was sticking a hat through one of his most treasured possessions.

Never before had the company been this companionable with the hobbit, they’d had a few laughs in the past but they were usually at the hobbit’s expense- something which he’d bared with gritted teeth instead of the mirth and laughter he did now. Although, he very much doubted if any of them would dare take a joke against him after seeing what he could do with one throwing knife.

A ripping sound was made next to Bilbo, who looked after retrieving his knife from a branch above him, to find Nori offering him a section of cloth from his battered coat.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Bilbo asked confused as to whether he was supposed to put it somewhere and hit it or just hold onto it.

“Let’s see what your skill is like blindfolded,” Nori suggested with a sly grin, making some of the company around them grin in turn.

Oin however, was less impressed, “Too risky!” he complained, and Bilbo thought it odd that the dwarf seemed deaf to all but when medical issues concerned him. A part of selective hearing was occurring there he thought. “What if the lad missing and hits one of us?”

Fili stepped forward, clasping Oin’s shoulder. “You worry too much,” he said, “None of us will stand in front of him, we’ll just get him to hit one of trees over there and everyone will be fine.”

Oin grumbled but nodded, clearly still not happy with the idea. Bilbo wasn’t particularly sure either, but having gained the company’s approval, he wasn’t sure he was ready to lose that just yet. And plus, this was some of the most fun he’d had since coming on his adventure.

“What shall I aim for?” he asked, looking around himself.

“That birch over there,” Ori suggested, his youthful face lit up by the events.

The company nodded in agreement. The birch was a slender tree, difficult to hit even with his eyes open. A perfect test of Bilbo’s talent.

Lining himself up with the tree, Bilbo made sure he was in the prime position for throwing the blade before passing the cloth to Nori to tie round his eyes. After making sure it was tied firmly and that Bilbo couldn’t see anything, the company stepped away, giving Bilbo plenty of breathing room.

In his mind he visualised the tree in front of him, trying to remember the details of the distance and girth as he raised his arm to throw the blade. But just as he was about to throw it, an owl gave a piercing screech, startling the poor hobbit for he his first thought was of his companions, and that one of them may be hurt. However, all it served to do was make the hobbit jerk, allowing the blade to fly yavanna knows where.

A thud greeted his ears, letting him know that something had been hit, and judging by the lack of cries of pain, he’d not hit anything alive. But the silence that extended after was not comforting either.

Unable to stand the tension, Bilbo ripped the blindfold from his eyes and looked around to find what he’d hit. The first thing he saw was the company’s faces, the colour and humour that they’d once held had drained out of them entirely. But they weren’t looking at Bilbo, they were looking at something far to his right.

Following their gaze, Bilbo’s face blanched as he realised where his blade had landed. It had landed in a stump, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it was just a few centimetres from Thorin’s hand. And said dwarf was now giving him such a piercing glare that Bilbo felt he might burst into flames from just the intensity of it.

No-one spoke, making the tension in the air build a tenfold.

Not knowing quite what to do, Bilbo said hurriedly, “I really sorry, won’t happen again,” before walking out of camp, muttering something about needing to relieve himself as he headed to a pool he’d heard Dori mention earlier. He knew he should probably stay with the company and face Thorin with them, but if it was anything he’d learnt after being with the company these past few months, it was that Thorin was his most reasonable when he’d calmed down. And that was when Bilbo would find him and apologise properly.

Taking a few deep breaths to sooth his frantic heart, Bilbo sat down on a fallen log, watching the way the setting sun cast a strange array of colours across the water.

And maybe it wasn’t just the fact that Thorin was potentially very angry that made Bilbo shy away from his company. It was also due to the fact that over the past week Bilbo had realised that his feelings towards the dwarf may extend beyond the boundaries of friendship. After the carrock, Thorin had spoken to Bilbo more, and made himself far more companionable with himself and the rest of the company.

It was as if a mask had been removed, and Bilbo could finally see within the soul of the leader. And with it came a fear and a longing that Bilbo was not long acquainted to. He knew pursuing this would lead only to sadness on his part, and would likely alienate Thorin from him again. That he would not be able to bear, friendship was enough to stave off any deep feelings of loneliness; alienation as he had felt at the start of the quest was not something he’d be able to stand should they return to that.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, lost in his own bitter thoughts, but the sound of deep footsteps through the undergrowth alerted him to the fact he was about to be joined by another. And judging by the pace and carefree nature of the walk, this was one of his companions and not an enemy.

To his surprise, it was Thorin who sat himself down next to him, arms barely brushing.

“I believe this belongs to you,” the dwarf said, passing Bilbo the blade with which he’d been practicing.

“Oh!” Bilbo said surprised, “Thank you, I mean, it’s not really mine, it’s Nori’s. I was just borrowing it you see and erm… hm… I’m err sorry for nearly hitting your hand,” Bilbo babbled, unable to stop himself as he instantly became flustered under the weight of Thorin’s stare.

Thorin’s lips quirked, “No harm done,” he said honestly and Bilbo was surprised that the dwarf wasn’t the least bit angry towards him. “Although if I were you, I’d stick to practicing with your eyes open. Limbs are a precious resource these days.”

Bilbo smiled slightly, “Yes, I quite agree,” he said. “Had I not missed I suppose the company would have had me throwing knives from the back of a pony next.”

“Probably,” Thorin smirked, “When Kili discovered his gift with a bow, he wouldn’t stop using it for weeks until his mother intervened.”

“What happened?” Bilbo asked, intrigued.

“Fili had dared him to shoot her hat off. Instead he managed to pin one of her braids against the wall which didn’t delay her long enough to catch up with him and braid his hair with Fili’s moustache,” he chuckled at the memory.

Bilbo laughed at the tale, not at all surprised by the brothers’ antics. He often forgot that Thorin had been a large parental figure in their lives.

“So I take it the company think you’ve sook me out to tell me off as I have little hair with which to braid?” Bilbo asked, humoured and touched by the thought that the company would likely now be think they were without a burglar.

“Yes,” Thorin answered, his own humour evident, “After berating them about safety, I didn’t say anything else before coming to find you.”

“And why did you come and find me?” Bilbo asked, “If I’m not to be sent back to the Shire.”

“To return your knife,” Thorin said, “And to ask you something.” Bilbo frowned slightly as he noted the King’s nervousness.

“Yes?” Bilbo prompted.

“I thought I might court you,” Thorin said, eyeing him to gage Bilbo’s reaction.

Bilbo’s mouth dropped open as the words Thorin had spoken circulated his mind. “Court me?”

Thorin nodded, “You see Bilbo, over the past few weeks I have realised that I would not be opposed to our companionship extending beyond something shared between friends.” It was hardly romantic but Bilbo couldn’t care less right then, Thorin was always a straight-talking dwarf and that was part of what attracted him to the King.

“And can I tell you something else?” Thorin asked, his eyes darkening as he edged closer to the hobbit.

“Anything,” Bilbo answered, unable to say anything more than that.

“Watching you throw those knives… I liked it.”

“What?” Bilbo squeaked, barely believing the words he was hearing.

“I said… I liked it.” And it was with those words that all barriers and reservations broke down between them, as Bilbo hastily buried his hands in Thorin’s hair to passionately claim the dwarf’s lips. The dwarf’s shock did not last and he soon began responding in kind, parting and moulding the hobbit’s lips as he pleased.

They remained like that for Mahal knows how long. All Bilbo knew was that when Thorin’s bottom lip dragged under his like that he was lost, entirely and blissfully lost in the heat of this kiss.

And if, from that day forward, Bilbo made sure to practice his throwing notably in front of Thorin, no-one made a comment. Although, Thorin always made sure to know where to and where not to put his arms when pulling the hobbit into an embrace, because he found he rather liked Bilbo having his own stash of knives about his person…

… even if that meant there was a 50 50 chance of being pricked by one in their moments of sweetness.

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any mistakes, please let me know, I need to now dash off and finish my assignment :P   
> Thankfully had some time to write a longer fic, and I wanted to do this one well :)  
> Also, reminder that I will continue accepting prompts for the next few days. Prompted fics will be credited and gifted to the prompter :)
> 
> Have a majestic day! 
> 
> Tumblr: meg-thilbo.tumblr.com


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